A Yandere's Worst Nightmare
by Vronsurd
Summary: Neo, a true Yandere, is in for a bit of a surprise when she picks the wrong victim. P.S.: I am so sorry for writing this. It's super messed up. No smut or heavy language just a bit...deranged.
1. Chapter 1

**Hola. I used to write a ton of fanfics under a different username. It's been a while. So I thought I'd go ahead and write something...**

 **And thus this story was born. I am so sorry for writing this. Because it's a little messed up. Haaaaaaaaaa.**

 **I've actually already written the next four chapters of the story. Let's just see how this one goes over though.**

 **God I don't want to burn in hell.**

 **Enjoy! (Although if you actually do enjoy this you'll probably be joining me in the fiery pit ha!)**

 **-Vronsurd**

 **Chapter 1**

Her bench was alive, wriggling, struggling for air, and desperate for life.

Fortunately the sack that contained her bench was made of sturdy burlap. It wasn't the most pleasant fabric for a seat; it chafed and scratched any exposed skin of the person who sat on it…but it worked smashingly when the furniture was so vehemently attempting to escape.

Neo met her bench's desperation with bemused indifference. She had no plans to kill this particular bench. She just wanted to teach it a lesson. But, damn, if this bench did not settle down soon she would probably stab it.

Not a fatal wound.

Just a prick to the leg or the shoulder. Enough to let her bench know that it was in a bench's best interest to always be on a bench's best behavior.

Neo shifted her weight a bit in order to get more comfortable and returned her attentions to her beloved. With practiced fingers she adjusted the focus on her binoculars so she could make out his every perfect feature. She smiled. She had a good view of him from this rooftop.

He was walking across the quad, yelling something—Neo had no idea what but she loved to observe the motions of his mouth.

Oh Jaune. Neo bit her lip. What words were there to describe her fascination? Her obsession?

He was just so…

Delicious.

It was difficult to pin down a specific characteristic that made him near irresistible to her.

Maybe it was that shaggy nest atop his crown…

Or maybe it was that glistening drop of innocence that danced in his eyes…

Or that lackadaisical grin that so often graced his boyish expression…

Or maybe, just maybe, it was his body. That sleek frame looked as if it was chiseled from divine marble by the hand of god herself.

Neo shuddered. Oh, how she longed to be entwined between those oaken limbs. She bet the two of them would be a perfect fit. She envisioned herself, on some lazy Sunday morning, head nestled on his sturdy chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She knew, with absolute confidence, that they would slide together like two pieces of…

A two piece puzzle. There was no need for any other pieces.

All Jaune Arc needed was her.

And all she needed was him.

It was that simple.

Neo gave a silent startled gasp when her bench suddenly bucked wildly, causing her to fall hard on the stone rooftop. Now, normally, she would have beaten a bench within an inch of its life for having the audacity to bruise her tailbone, but watching Jaune, even from this distance, soothed her anger immensely. She stood, spun, and delivered a heavy kick to where she guessed her bench's head was—the sac made it difficult to tell.

She hit pay dirt. The bench slumped with a muted whimper—hardly audible from behind the gag and duct tape.

Now this was what she liked to see! Bench's shouldn't have fight in them. They should obey, submit, like the garbage furniture they were.

Neo almost thought to herself, emphasis on almost, _the ginger bimbo has had enough; I'll leave her in the nurse's office with a note telling her to keep her skanky eyes off my property_. But then she heard it. Distant at first but getting louder with every passing moment.

"Pyrrah!"

It couldn't be. She turned back towards the courtyard far below.

"Pyrrah! Where are you!?"

Oh god. Say it wasn't so. This couldn't be happening! It had to be some cruel trick!

"Pyrrah where'd you go!?"

Neo turned to her bench, a moaning burlap mess with a dark red splotches speckling its mass.

Why?

Why was her beloved uttering the name of her bench with such passion? Neo ground her teeth, a swelling fire bubbling in her stomach, working its way up, flooding her pale face with heat.

Jaune, her lovely Jaune, had never once said Neo's name—never mind the fact that he didn't know it. Here he was shouting the name of a filthy bench-whore as if it was his one true love.

Was it possible? Had this giant slut managed to worm her way into Jaune's tender, caring, heart with her slutty charm and ugly troll body?

The very thought sent an involuntary reaction through Neo's small body. She picked up her umbrella, barely in control of her own actions.

She nearly drew her sword—but thought better of it. She hadn't brought this piece of garbage bench up to this roof to kill her—as tempting as the thought was. She just needed to teach her a lesson. Correction. She need to teach her body a lesson. A lesson that—even if her mind or heart forgot—her bones, her muscles, her organs, her nerves…they would always remember.

Neo gripped her umbrella upside down, grasping the tip and plastic fabric that normally comprised the top. The first blow was to the ribs.

A warm sense of euphoria trickled down Neo's spine. She inhaled deeply and shuddered as the pleasant sensation ran through her like an electric shock. The gagged squeal and choked sob the bench released only served to make Neo feel even better.

The next seven blows were in rapid succession, each heightening the pleasure in steady spurts. One glanced off Pyrr-whore's head, the others fell on her unseemly body. For once, Neo was grateful for this giantess's obnoxious stature. It gave her so much more to beat.

And there was no woman on the planet who deserved a beating more than this whore-faced bench slut.

The minutes flew by and Neo showed no signs of slowing. In fact, each blow energized her, sending a forbidden chill along her spine. This was the slut who had tried to steal her Jaune. She had been clumsy in her attempts, perhaps even stupid, but Neo did not discriminate. Anyone who so much as looked at her beloved with eyes of lust would have that lust beaten, stabbed, and tortured out of them.

At some point the slut must have managed to remove her gag because her whimpers and wails grew louder. Neo knew she should be more worried about someone over hearing her and Pyrr-whore's…session. But hearing this slut-thief's pain in every little scream, cry, and moan made the entire experience so much more enjoyable.

Neo realized—perhaps a little too late—when her arm began to grow tired that she had probably gone too far. Her bench had stopped making noises with every blow—and wasn't really moving much either.

Damn.

Had she killed the whore-thief?

She hoped not. Who wanted to waste time hiding a body when she could be sneaking into the boy's locker room to get some hot pics?

Neo knelt and lowered her ear to where she estimated the Pyrr-whore's mouth would be. It was difficult to tell whether or not the ging-whore was still alive through the burlap. Neo poked her chest several times, hoping to elicit a reaction.

"You'll…never…break me." Was the bench's hoarse whispery response.

 _You'll never break me._ Neo played back the trollop's words in her head several times. Each repetition made her a bit angrier. Did this piece of whore-garbage think that she would win Jaune in the end? Did she think that…Did she intend to steal Neo's beloved no matter what? That boiling heat returned, pulsing through her with all the force of a raging ocean current.

Should she give in to that current? Should she let it carry her away?

Well, if Pyrr-whore-faced-slut could still talk, she could handle a little more couldn't she? And, what the hell, Neo could teleport, hiding a body wasn't really all that much trouble.

Since her arms had grown tired from wielding her umbrella Neo resorted to savage kicking. The euphoria returned like a gentle breeze and once again her body buzzed with an indescribable pleasure. Every _crack_ of a broken bone, every _whump_ of blunt trauma on soft flesh, they each sent tendrils of pleasure out to the furthest reaches Neo's body.

When a particularly violent kick sent Pyrr-whore rolling out of reach Neo gasped and reclaimed control of her trembling limbs. She inhaled and exhaled rapidly. Good. That was good. Very good. That whore had gone after her Jaune. Now the whorish slut-whore-bench was undoubtedly so misshapen and deformed that she wouldn't dare send another wayward glance at Jaune.

Was the whore-bench still alive? Who cared? Alive or dead, Neo had already decided to bury her.

On the slight chance that what the clearly-broken whore-bench had said was true, that she "would not be broken", Neo didn't want to leave the giant-slut-bench alive. If there was even the slightest chance that Pyrr-whore would continue her pursuit of Jaune Arc, then she deserved death, no questions asked.

"Pyrrah!"

"Pyrrah where are you?"

Neo's ears perked. Jaune was nearby again.

"Pyrrah!"

Her brow furrowed. He was not alone.

"Pyrrah! Come out! It's pancake time! And damnit! Ren said he wouldn't make me any until I helped Jaune find you!"

Neo crept to the edge of the rooftop and looked down with silent fury.

Sure enough, just beneath her, was her beloved Jaune, as dashing and as handsome as usual. But…

Why?

Why were those two whores beside him?

Boiling magma filled her stomach. Her eyes narrowed and red tinged the edge of her vision. Her small hands clenched so tight that her sharpest nail pierced her left palm. A trickle of blood worked its way between her pressed fingers.

The little red one. And the pink one.

Whore-Rose and Whora Valkyrie-whoreson.

Neo snapped her fingers and, with the sound of breaking glass, sent the bloody burlap bench behind her to the nearest lake. All the while, she did not take her eyes off the future benches beneath her. The only question was…

Which whore should she "teach" first?


	2. Chapter 2

**So...pretty good response to chapter 1 so I'm swinging for chapter 2. I'll probably just do one a day for as many as I've already written and then one a week after that.**

 **Heads up: wait for chapter 4. This will not be your typical Neo-yandere story. (It has an actual plot.)**

 **Fav and follow so I know you want more. I've got a folder on my computer full of potential projects so I want to focus on stuff people really like.**

 **Remember:**

 **Sometimes, bad things just happen.**

 **-Vronsurd**

 **Chapter 2**

Neo licked her lips and snuggled a little closer to her beloved.

Oh thank god for her semblance.

There was nothing she liked more than to watch Jaune's innocent, sleeping face from the comfort and warmth of his covers.

He had been quite restless earlier—no doubt troubled by the letter team JNR had found early that day. The team had discovered a message from Pyrrah, a typed letter, explaining why she had to return home to her family.

Only Neo knew that Pyrrah would never type another letter ever again.

Now Jaune's face was more relaxed—since Neo had fed him some sleeping medicine—mouth to mouth of course.

Neo froze when Jaune shifted and muttered in his sleep. Fortunately, if he began to awake, she could disappear as quickly as she had appeared.

She briefly envisioned greeting her waking lover with a smile and a passionate kiss. Oh. Wouldn't that be perfect? He'd be surprised at first but, after a few seconds, the delectable virgin would give into the dark, insatiable desires he was barely even aware that he had. Neo's back arched as her imagination sent a tremor through her body.

No.

It wasn't quite time for the two of them to meet.

There were still too many whore-benches slinking around her lover. They couldn't be together—not truly together—until every whore-bench had been put in her place. And if the whore-bench starting spouting off nonsense like "you'll never break me"…

She would have to be broken—permanently.

Neo rolled lightly out of Jaune's bed. She had two new targets: the whore with the scythe and the whore with the hammer. The insignificant boy with the pink highlight was sleeping peacefully—as was Jaune.

Neo turned towards Whora. The pancake obsessed slut was fast asleep. Neo gritted her teeth; that flamboyant orange hair offended her like a bitter insult. And that hammer…such a brutish weapon. And the way she grasped that handle…Neo just knew the orange-bench-whore was trying to seduce her beloved.

Neo took a few steps towards the traffic-cone-whore, compelled by a building surging bloodlust. She already knew what she would do to this bench, how she would shatter its fragile over-sugarred mind. Oh, this one would be good. She had a feeling that wasting the whor-ange would be a particularly pleasurable experience. At the very least—it would be a new one. Nothing was better than torturing an enigma. Every new response to pain was a delightful surprise.

She couldn't fight the uncontrollable grin inching out across her face. She reached out to touch that annoyingly placid face.

And then she felt it.

Something she had never experienced so acutely before—not even when she had accidently spilled her ice cream on Cinder's new dress.

Terror.

It felt as if she was under the laser point of a sniper rifle—as if all the murderous intent in the world was being poured out on her. She was a rabbit, her tail pinned under the paw of a ravenous wolf. Her body, temporarily frozen, like a mouse staring into the eyes of a King Taijitu.

Was someone watching her? Someone who intended to kill her?

She glanced around the room cautiously. Other than the three teammates the room was empty. And their breathing was steady and calm… They were definitely asleep…

The feeling of imminent danger receded as Neo backed towards the window. She wasn't sure where it came from. Perhaps there was a powerful teacher nearby or some other unknown threat. All she knew for certain was that every internal trigger and alarm she had developed over the years as an assassin were all going off at once. There was a threat nearby.

Invisible.

Silent.

And waiting for her to make a mistake.

She spared a glance at the Whor-ange. It would be a simple matter to start with the Ham-whore.

But Neo didn't want to risk awakening her beloved to the sight of her taking out the garbage. Plus, someone might be watching. At the very least, someone was nearby. Someone dangerous.

Yes, Neo would deal with this particular slut tomorrow. When the bench was alone. And when Neo's danger senses weren't spiking off the chart. Perhaps Goodwitch was around? That would explain the icy fear she felt in her heart of hearts. She had seen the school administrator talking with her beloved before, but—for some reason—when she imagined attacking her she could only envision her own destruction.

She took one last draft of Jaune's sleeping visage and then accessed her semblance. In an instant, she vanished from team JNR's room. For a half second she was blind and deaf, completely senseless, incapable of interacting with the physical world. And then she reappeared in team RWBY's dorm. Unsurprisingly, the team's room hung in a delicate balance between order and disorder. The beds were stacked precariously, one hung from the ceiling, shifting ever so slightly with its occupant's movements. The other was balanced carefully on stacks of book.

Neo flitted to her target's resting place. With practiced stealth she leapt into crimson whore's bed and straddled her target. The bed rocked ever so slightly—but did not disturb the whore's sleeping teammates.

Whore-by Rose. She was obviously a little young for a Beacon student. Her cheeks had the tell-tale baby fat of a young teen, and, even while fast asleep, her expression reeked of innocence and naiveté.

The littlest slut was cute, Neo wouldn't deny that. She wasn't nearly as whorish as the other three benches asleep in this room. She was like an untouched flower.

Neo tucked an out of place hair behind Ruby's ear. In response, the rosy cheeked girl twitched, a small movement, starting in her nose and working its way down her jaw.

Neo smiled upon seeing the adorable muscle spasms.

So cute. Just like a flower.

There was nothing Neo liked more than plucking every petal off a pristine blossom—until there was nothing left but a naked, scared, bloody stem—fated to never bloom again.

Neo licked her lips. The air surrounding her tasted sweeter somehow—as if her excitement was manifesting as sugar. She inhaled deeply. The littlest whore smelled pleasant, some sort of flowery shampoo. Good. Nothing was worse than a foul smelling bench. Benches that smelled bad tended to get a quick but fatal treatment.

 _You and I are going to have so much fun._

Neo rested a palm on Ruby's warm cheek and activated her semblance. And, with the sound of shattered glass, they vanished.

 **Dear Ruby and Readers: I'm really sorry about the chapter I'll be posting tommorow.**

 **-Vronsurd**


	3. Chapter 3

**So...this is chapter 3. Ha.**

 **Maybe this should be rated M?**

 **I promise I'll get to the point of this story in chapter 4 so just bear with me.**

 **If you like, follow favorite, etcetera...I got a lot of potential projects l, I'll probably only pursue the ones that people are enjoying.**

 **Remember, This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but with a whimper.**

 **-Vronsurd**

 **Chapter 3**

Ruby awoke with a start. At least, she thought she had awoken. But, upon examining her surroundings, it seemed she was still dreaming.

Although the sudden shift in mood was a bit odd.

A few seconds ago she had been riding down a river of milk on a boat made of eternally hot and evwrlastingly fresh cookies. Now she was in a cold concrete room. It was dark, the only source of light was the moon which shown through a barred window ten feet above her. The floor was damp and frigid against her bare feet. The chill worked its way through her thin pajama pants, and down her spine.

She tried to stand, to reduce her points of contact with the cold ground. When she began to shift, the rattling noise revealed the manacles embracing her wrists and ankles, attached to short chains. The chains were so short that they would not allow her to stray so much as an inch from the wall behind her—much less push up to her feet.

She was still inspecting her shackles—as best she could in the pale light-when a sudden clap startled her. She whipped her gaze forward—only to be met by a pair of mismatched pink and brown irises inches awayr.

A scream caught in Ruby's throat. She didn't release it though. She was a warrior, a huntress, screaming in terror didn't come naturally to her—she refused to let it.

But these eyes…

There was madness in them. Madness and joy.

"W-who are you?" Ruby asked. She couldn't make out much of her captors face in the dark. The person was strategic in their position—just outside the beam of moonlight that bathed Ruby.

The man or woman wrapped in shadows did not answer, instead, they produced a dimly lit scroll. After a few seconds of typing they turned the screen towards Ruby.

 _"You know, I watched you sleep a while."_

Ruby mouthed the text slowly and then responded as best she could. "Oh? That's…cool. I guess."

The scroll turned round again and more typing ensued. _"I don't usually watch random skanks sleep. Just my beloved."_

"Hey! I'm not a skank!" Ruby replied hastily. "And who's your beloved?"

The scroll turned back again. More typing. _"You are unusually cute. You have an adorable nose."_

Ruby realized this wasn't so much a conversation as a monologue. Her captor wasn't interested in discussion. There was just something she wanted to say. So Ruby bit back her onslaught of questions.

More typing. _"Yes. You are very cute…"_

"Thank you…?" Ruby responded uncertainly. "I can't really see you but I think your eyes are beautiful."

And then there was pain. The scream of terror Ruby had swallowed earlier came ripping out of her as a wail of agony. Cold steel was lodged in her shoulder. She stared down at the blades reflective surface as she screamed. Blood spurted from the wound; she could feel it on her face; she watched it drip down the weapon.

The tears flooding her eyes combined with the rooms already poor lighting made it difficult to read the scroll when it was turned towards her once again.

 _"Shameless whore-faced-slut-bench! You would even try to steal me from my beloved!? You would try to steal me!?"_

What?

After Ruby managed to subdue her initial screams—and her mind became a little less foggy she reread the message that had made so little sense the first time.

"Huh?" Ruby asked in a very small voice—in between gasping sobs.

The shadow withdrew their blade with an upward flourish that further opened Ruby's wound. Ruby clenched her teeth and looked towards the lone window above. The pain was overwhelming; it permeated her being. But it wasn't as bad as that initial stab—nor was it as shocking. She managed to focus enough to read the scroll again when it was turned towards her.

 _"My eyes belong to my beloved. All of me belongs to my beloved. You will have nothing. You are nothing."_

Ruby screamed again when the blade was driven into her other shoulder—two perfectly symmetrical wounds. This time she couldn't regain control. The sobs, the gasps, the screams, they were all blending together.

In rapid succession the blade slashed out of her shoulder and slid into the thigh directly below, and then the thigh next to it, and then back up the first shoulder, and then the second. With lighting precision the swordsman slid his or her blade into the same wounds, over and over, heightening the pain, expanding the damage.

"Why?" Her speech was hardly intelligible as she choked it out. "Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you? To anybody?"

The torturer withdrew the blade straight this time—no fancy flourish. The light of the scroll disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared.

Ruby squinted at the screen, but the words were just a blur. There were too many tears in her eyes, too much terror in her heart, too much agony in her limbs.

"I-I can't read it", the fourteen-year-old whimpered. "P-please don't be angry. B-but I just can't read it."

There was the sudden sound of a glass dropped and the shadowy figure in front of her vanished.

The demon reappeared to her left and slightly behind her. Ruby couldn't see her but she could detect her murderous presence. She could almost feel a devilish smile plastered onto a sadistic face.

Ruby tried to turn, to get a look at her captor, but a small hand on the side of her head kept her facing forward. Ruby didn't have the strength to resist. The monster was behind her, preparing only-god-knows-what hellish torture—and she couldn't even turn her head.

Why…was this happening to her? Why?

An arm draped over Ruby's shoulder. The arm was small and light—probably a woman's.

Oh god. Ruby realized that she was about to have her throat slit.

Why?

She loved people. She always tried her best. She always tried to do the right thing. Why was this…how could this…

Surprisingly, the object she had assumed—through waterlogged pupils—was a knife for her throat, was a handkerchief for her eyes.

Her captor dabbed carefully, almost...tenderly clearing Ruby's vision.

Ruby was still crying—but there was a long enough gap in between the sobs for her to read the scroll, now only inches away. The thin nails on fingers that grasped the edges of the device were each painted alternating pink and brown. Ruby picked up on this small detail before she read the mind numbing message those dainty fingers had typed.

 _"You really do have such a cute little face…I bet it'll look even better inside out."_ There was a sound like breaking glass and the scroll disappeared, replaced by a razor sharp carving knife.

Ruby screamed. She screamed with all her being. Her jaw quivered as she released her desperate cry. Her body trembled. Her eyes flooded. She twisted away from the blade, straining against the hands that held her head in place. She caught a short glimpse of those wicked, mismatched, unsympathetic eyes. "Please…", she sputtered.

The sharp point of the knife traced the outline of her jaw with playful lethargy.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I don't know what I've done. But I'll do anything. Please don't hurt me anymore." Ruby hacked and sobbed as she spoke, barely enunciating.

The knife moved a half inch away from her face. It seemed—for a moment that her desperate plea had worked. Would she survive this yet? Ruby was afraid to even hope.

And then the knife moved…a few more inches from her face—into position for a stab.

Was this really happening? Was she really about to have her face carved off by some multicolored psychopath? After all she had been through. With all she had left to do…

"Sorry mom. Guess I can't become a great huntress like you after all." For a moment, Ruby could see her: her mother, a huntress as beautiful as she was powerful...but the fleeting hallucination disappeared aa quickly as it appeared.

Then the knife surged forward…

Ruby wasn't sure whether it was a sharp point through her brain, or pure unadulterated terror that caused it but, in an instant, all went black.

And she knew no more.

 **I've been told that I shouldn't apologize since this is just a story. But I still feel like I should since that advice was given before things got really dark.**

 **Hold put for chapter 4 dear reader. It may or may not be worth your while. :P**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Vronsurd**


	4. Chapter 4

**So the end of chapter 4 kind of marks the beginning of this story's plot. More details on that in the author's note at the end.**

 **This was the last chapter I finished** ** _before_** **I started posting so updates from here will be every 5 days or weekly—assuming you guys want more. That is unless I get really inspired and just knock out a few more chapters. (I have the rest of the story outlined and whatnot, it just has to be written). It's a pretty long chapter though so I hope it gives you much...joy? Or maybe that it triggers you? I dunno what I'm going for with this one.**

 **Even though I've been assured everyone's cool with it, I'm still going to apologize for being a little sick in the head—as evidenced by this entire project.**

 **P.S.: Some of you may have noticed I changed this story's name from "A Yandere's Worse Nightmare" To "A Yandere's Worst Nightmare" Explanation: I was really tired when I first uploaded this and my friend—the grammar Nazis god—had an absolute fit. He was right of course but the way he acted as if I didn't know how "bad", "worse", and "worst" work was super annoying so I tried to convince him I did it on purpose. But then, as he predicted, I absolutely couldn't make the title make sense. C** **urse his expertise. Long story short, he won, I changed it.**

 **As always, follow, fave, review, etc...If I know people want more I'll write more.**

 **Remember, Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.**

 **-Vronsurd**

 **Chapter 4**

Neo watched Whor-by slump over, her limp form held up by the chains. A single drop of blood slid down her rosy cheek. The origin of the traveling red gem was the slight point of contact between Ruby's face and Neo's blade.

Neo had pulled her blade short just as her entertainment fainted from pure terror.

 _What a cutie._

Neo had seen many a slut pass out from the pain she enjoyed inflicting. But she had never seen one lose consciousness in fear.

 _"I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I don't know what I've done. But I'll do anything. Please don't hurt me anymore."_ Neo played back Ruby's final plea in her mind. How could she resist such an adorable request? If Pyrr-whore had responded to her lesson like that then she'd still be breathing—possibly.

Neo still might have killed her. The giant bench's pleas weren't nearly as cute as this child's.

And the red slut was pretty short.

Neo liked that in a bench.

Of course…there was the problem of the little wench having seen her eyes. Pink and brown. It was a pretty rare color combination—not that anyone would be able to catch her. But still…it was probably better safe than sorry. Cinder would be pissed as hell if Neo did anything that endangered her plans for the Vytal festival.

 _Blerg._

What to do… What to do…

She didn't want to get rid of this incredible toy…but Cinder was better left…uncrossed.

Neo paced back and forth, sparing the slutty Rose a glance every few seconds.

As funny as it had been to see the scared whore's reaction to _"You really do have such a cute little face…I bet it'll look even better inside out."_ Neo was one-hundred percent certain that an inside out face would ruin the little girl's charm.

"Ah." She released the closest utterance to a word that her scarred throat could produce.

She would have to kill her. There was no other choice. As fun as the whore had been, she wasn't worth risking Cinder's anger. Few things were.

The slut was already bleeding. Neo had been careful to avoid inflicting any instantly fatal wounds like her arteries or organs but she'd still be dead within an hour or two without proper medical attention.

Neo stared at red-slut's puffy eyes and watery nose. There was something…delectable about this one. Something that made Neo want to push this innocent youth further into the abyss.

She wouldn't turn her face inside out because that would spoil the fun.

But she would wake her back up.

And she would make her endure twice as much as she already had.

Fingers and toes. She bet this whore's response to losing her digits would be absolutely titillating. Maybe she should start by snipping off a few fingers when she was still unconscious. Neo imagined the whore waking up to a clumsily trimmed stump for a hand. Neo picture the surprise, shock, and horror that would dance across the girl's vision before they were replaced with an absolute hopelessness—a bottomless pit of despair.

And then she would die.

 _"I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I don't know what I've done. But I'll do anything. Please don't hurt me anymore."_

Neo sighed. It was a good beg—one of the best she had heard from a whore-faced-slut-bench.

That decided it. Neo was not without a heart. She wouldn't inflict anymore pain on this dear child. She would just slash the whore's throat and be done with it, abandoning her plans for hours of more torture. This was the kind of merciful grace that she possessed. These were the kind of gentle and caring qualities that would draw her and her beloved together into a hot tangled mess of fate and romance.

She approached the red-whore, twirling her knife with practiced grace.

And then an idea struck her. An **_excellent_** idea. Sure, the scarlet harlot had begged for relief from the torture…and Neo intended to grant her request. But there were still ways to break the glimmer in those virtuous eyes—even without physical pain.

And she'd be killing two birds with one stone. It would be all too perfect.

Neo spared a glance at the bench she had brutalized. _I will return._

Neo accessed her semblance and all went dark. She returned to the material world in a familiar location: her beloved's room. She kept her back turned on Jaune. If she so much at looked at him after tonight's thrilling "festivities" she wouldn't want to leave, not without a quick kiss, which would turn into a loving stroke, which would turn into god-knows-what.

No. Not yet. He was hers but she couldn't take him fully yet. Not when there were still so many distracting sluts, whores, tramps, and trollops flitting about her prince.

She kept her eyes trained on the whor-ange. There she was, arms and legs splayed, asleep without a care in the world. Cradled next to her, like a lover, was her much-adored hammer. A bit of drool hung from the corner of her wide-open mouth. She muttered something about how "one-hundred pancakes aren't enough".

Oh. This slut would make fine furniture. She wasn't as repulsive as the giant bench from before. Repulsive benches were no fun to sit on—they were too disgusting. And she also wasn't as adorable as the skank bleeding out in the dungeons below. Adorable furniture was a bother since Neo tended to get attached and did not want to break it too quickly.

Neo imagined bashing in the slut's kneecaps with her own hammer—right next to the red whore. The sound of the slutty pumpkin's screams would drive strawberry whore over the edge—Neo was sure of that. The tiny whore would go insane—and Neo wouldn't have to lay so much as a finger on her. Neo shivered, not just in eager anticipation of her devilish plot, but also because she detected that bloodlust from before. It was heavy, thick, and pervasive.

Neo spared a glance over her shoulder—making sure to keep her gaze off the beautiful hunk of a man that belonged to her—afraid that she would not be able to control herself if she set sight on that lovely form.

The green, black, and pink one was fast asleep. Pyrr-whore was…oh right. At the bottom of a lake.

Hmm. Maybe Glynda was still nearby. No matter. Neo wasn't planning to stick around.

With one hand she touched the tramp's shoulder and with the other she gripped the slut's hammer. It took her half a second to recall the spatial coordinates of her personal torture chamber. For an instant—just before she warped the fabric of space—she felt…something. Pleasure, fear, anger…she wasn't sure what.

And then she was back. Far away from whatever phenomenon was occurring in that room. So she put it out of her mind.

Neo's first victim of the night was just as she had left her, with one major exception. She was still chained, bleeding, and cute as all hell, but now she was awake. She looked up when Neo arrived, eyes searching for her mystery captor in the darkness.

Since Neo had decided to kill them both anyway she didn't feel the need to wrap herself in shadow as she had earlier. She reached into her special spatial pocket and withdrew a dust powered lantern she kept for special occasions just like these.

Terror-stricken gray eyes locked onto her.

The room flooded with mellow light.

"Y-you're back." The bloody whore pressed herself into the wall, shrinking as far away from Neo as her restraints would allow.

What a precious little reaction. What a precious little whore.

Her eyes drifted to Neo's second guest, still asleep, lying on the ground. "Is that Nora? What are you going to do to her?"

Neo smiled sweetly at the slutty red child. Here she was bleeding out, her life-force draining away, and still she displayed such selfless concern for others. Neo had been spot on in her assessment. Breaking the orange skank would break the red one as well. Oh…how she longed to see that broken, fractured, dull, transparent look in the red one's eyes.

She pirouetted as she approached the sleeping slut, dancing to a glorious rhythm only she could hear. She crouched beside her and poked her cheek several times. When those slutty eyelids began to flutter Neo stood, bent, and hefted Nora's hammer as best she could. Its weight immediately took her off balance.

When she was dealing with little red riding whore Neo had whittled away the slut's aura while she was still asleep—only chaining her up and beginning the main entertainment when she was already vulnerable to physical pain.

But for the Whor-ange Neo had something better planned. She would wake her up, and knock out her entire slutty whora-aura with one massive blunt attack.

The orange slut's eyes opened.

"Nora move!" Screamed the red slut hoarsely.

 _Too late for that._ Neo already had the orange slut's massive mallet lifted above her head. It was heavy. No, that was an understatement. It was extremely heavy.

For a moment it seemed as if the weight of the hammer would bring Neo crashing backwards. But, unfortunately for the whor-ange, Neo was a master of space and balance. She used her semblance to teleport herself several feet above the pumpkin-whore into a position favorable for bringing down the great hammer with maximum force.

She aimed for the whore's knee. Perhaps, if Neo was lucky, the hammer head would burst right through the whore's aura and crush her kneecap. If not, Neo was sure the blow would still wipe out most of the orange's aura, which meant she could bust the kneecap for sure with the second strike.

The orange-bench-whore uttered the name of the person she had expected to wake up to as her eyes opened fully, "Ren?"

And then the bench devolved into screams and howls.

Neo's luck was on point today. The slut's own hammer had slammed right through her aura shield and into her knee. The sound of bones fracturing was delightful, like the sound of a swing-and-hit in a game of dust-ball.

And…as expected…the red slut's outcry joined the orange one's agony.

"Stop!" She begged. "Please stop! Why are you doing this!?" The little red slut was sobbing again, gasping for air. "Why would anyone do this?"

Neo watched the orange slut writhe with a lazy smile before turning towards her questioner. She approached the chained up slut, dragging the bloody hammer behind her. She withdrew her scroll and typed out a message.

 _"This is what happens when you take what is mine."_

The red slut read her message; her brow furrowed and her nose scrunched.

Neo felt her pulse quicken, an irrational anger flooding through her veins.

 _Please little red slut, don't act as if you don't know what I'm talking about. Don't act confused. You'll ruin everything. If you act like you don't know what you've done…I don't know what I'll do._

If the red slut could have listened to Neo's internal discussions perhaps she would have kept her mouth shut. Perhaps she would have choked down her words.

"What…? I've never taken anything from you. I don't even know who you are…"

Neo gritted her teeth, infuriated by the very idea that this skanky red garbage heap would feign ignorance. So little red wanted to play stupid? What a tragic mistake. Neo hoisted Nora's hammer. She would crush those deceitful, lying lips into powder. She lifted the hammer higher, more careful with her balance this time. One blow, that's all it would take to split her skull in two.

It was a shame though. Neo had hoped to see a more complicated despair in her eyes than simple fear of death. Oh well. This wasn't so bad.

She was just about to bring the hammer crashing down when something grabbed her boot. Something disgusting. She glanced down.

"R-ruby…"

The orange slut had dragged herself, mangled leg and all, to where Neo stood. Behind her was a trail of smeared along the concrete. Neo lowered the hammer slowly, resting the grip on her shoulder. The cumbersome weapon was still heavy but this position made things easier. She turned towards the whor-ange. Those slutty fingers were still wrapped around her boot.

Neo looked down at those desperate eyes.

And had a wonderful idea.

Maintaining eye contact with the ginger trollop and sneering wickedly, she licked up and down her finger and then motioned towards her boot.

The message was clear. If she didn't want Neo to split the red whore's head like water melon, she better start licking her boots—to show how very sorry she was for being a disgusting slutty orangutan who didn't deserve to live in the same world as Jaune Arc—much less the same room.

Nora's face twisted into a grimace of horror. She was a warrior, a huntress, a _Valkyrie_ , the idea of throwing away the pride that accompanied these titles seemed a worse blow to her than being maimed by her own hammer.

Neo motioned towards an imaginary watch on her wrist and then slowly licked the back of her hand.

 _Come on you stupid skank. I know you'll do it._

Growing impatient, Neo kicked the slut in the face with her free foot—several times.

Eye's swelling shut and face battered, the orange slut ceased hesitating and lowered her face towards the shoe.

"Don't do it!" Cried the red slut.

Too late.

If Neo could have shouted in glee she would have. She hoisted the hammer once again. The moment the orange slut's tongue touched Neo's shoe she would officially be broken. Her pride and identity as a warrior would be irreparably shattered.

Which meant Neo would have no further use for her. And her death would have the added plus of breaking the littlest whore. It was a win-win.

And there it was; tongue met shoe.

Now for the fun part. Neo brought the hammer moderately high—she wanted to deal a lethal blow the whore-faced orange's spine but not an instantaneous death. She looked over her shoulder at the red slut—she wanted to make sure she was watching every moment.

Of course, the irritatingly cute slut had her eyes shut tight.

Coward.

No matter. Neo turned back to the orange slut. This was still plenty fun. Neo sang merrily inside her head to a familiar tune. _Crack goes the skank's back_.

"Stop"

The hairs on the back of Neo's neck prickled.

Her eyes widened.

Her grip on the hammer tightened.

It was back. That terrifying feeling from Jaune's room. That bloodlust so thick that it felt as if she was wading through neck-deep water. Her heart beat intensified and her breathing quickened ever so slightly. What was this force before her? What was this darkness?

Neo's gaze slowly traveled up and away from her latest victim.

Black hair. A pink highlight. Green clothes.

It was the R in JNR. The insignificant male gnat that she didn't mind allowing to subside beside her beautiful Jaune. How the hell had he found her?

His expression was blank. His pink eyes were absolutely empty. He was just staring at Nora, as she bled on the ground, his expression, an absolute mask. She had seen those eyes before, but she wasn't sure when. Her mind was screaming at her to be afraid. To be very afraid. But she wasn't sure why.

He spoke, his voice a dull monotone; his gaze lingered on Nora. "I noticed your presence a while back…"

Neo was only half paying attention to what he was saying. The rest of her focused on her next move. She hated to wipe out all of Jaune's team…but what else could she do at this point? Besides, for all she knew this boy could be gay—just waiting for an opportunity to lure Jaune to the dark side. Yes, he would have died eventually regardless.

The beansprout didn't look particularly strong. She would wait for the perfect opportunity and then—when his guard was lowered, for even a millisecond—she would strike.

Neo was so caught up in her thoughts that she did not process the words the black haired boy was speaking—if she had been listening, perhaps she would not have made such a fatal error in judgement. Perhaps she would have fled that very moment.

"I am a man of few possessions…I believe in sharing and I get along with my friends…" Ren's pink lifeless eyes finally lifted off of his childhood friends collapsed form and onto Neo. "But what's mine is mine and…"

Neo blinked. She didn't mean to. It just happened. And during that blink something happened. A transformation occurred. Restraint broke.

The wind gust from his sudden movement sent her lantern skittering into the wall, dimming the room immensely. A single massive hand crushed her throat. Moving with the speed of a bullet he flew across the room, slamming and pinning her to the wall. The force of the collision sent the orange slut's hammer flying from Neo's small hands.

Suddenly the room was alight, pink flames crawled across the floor. Broiling heat blasted through the space. The hand on her throat scorched and burned.

Neo finally realized where she had seen those emotionless pupils before. Now that she was getting a good look at them, just before they transformed into pinpricks of rage.

The mirror. She had seen those eyes in the mirror.

Ren's voice erupted like a dormant volcano. Gone was the reserved and thoughtful nature, gone was the friendly smile and wise countenance. His voice ripped through Neo like a chainsaw, shredding her innards with blind indifference. "… **Nora is mine.** "

As his burning grip on her throat tightened, Neo panicked. The hell flames that were fanning out across the room were pulsating from his body—a physical embodiment of his fury. His sleeves had rolled back to reveal eerily defined arms, every muscle straining against the skin that caged it.

He cocked back a fist.

Neo's eyes widened when a spinning blanket of purplish pink fire coated his knuckles and the arm they were attached to.

And then she remembered her semblance. A whistling noise drowned out the sound of shattering glass as she teleported herself a few feet to the right, to her umbrella. When she popped back into existence she heard a boom, followed by an explosion of rock and dust.

Sword back in hand, she briefly considered fighting. That is, until she realized where the whistling, boom, and explosion had come from. The whistle had been Ren's punch accelerating. The boom, had been his fist bursting past the sound barrier. And the explosion had occurred when he hit the wall.

The dust settled quickly enough for her to see that his punch had destroyed the adjacent wall, as well as the walls in the cell next to them, and the walls in the cell next to that one, and the walls in the cell next to that one. Purple flames danced around the edges of the demolished walls, lapping at the stone. It looked as if someone had detonated a bomb.

" **Oh come on. Don't be a pussy. Take a punch. Normally, I'd just maim you for touching Nora but you f***ing violated her.** " Ren's eyes were all fury but his smile was all pleasure. **"So I'm going to obliterate every cell in your body."** He inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if oxygen was some kind of potent drug. **"I'm going to make it like you never existed in the first place b*tch."**

Neo just barely managed to activate her semblance before Ren's supersonic fist of flaming death came into contact with her face. She instinctively teleported to a place far away, a place she hoped would be safe from this psycho.

Neo swore to herself as she popped back into existence.

Sh*t.

There was nothing worse than a goddamn yandere.

 **And there you have it. The answer to the question: what is a yandere's worst nightmare...?**

 **More than one of them in the story!**

 **Some of you will probably complain "you said this chapter will set up the plot! All you did was set up a premise!" To which I respond:**

 **hrehrwfheriggrr. shutup.**

 **Anyway. If you guys want me to keep writing just tell me.**

 **Feedback is nectar to a writer's soul—even the negative stuff!**

 **Keep believin'**

 **-Vronsurd**


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